


i want to be the one you remember

by theblackhall



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: M/M, Wonki, composer hyunggu, guitarist shinwon, music studio fluff, wonki are university students
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:26:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29083104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theblackhall/pseuds/theblackhall
Summary: “Why do you want to make music, Hyunggu?” Shinwon asked.“I just want to be remembered,” Hyunggu said. “I want to be remembered for my music.”Shinwon smiled back, “Then I’ll definitely remember you, Kang Hyunggu.”
Relationships: Kang Hyunggu | Kino/Ko Shinwon
Comments: 9
Kudos: 27





	i want to be the one you remember

**Author's Note:**

> hyunggu and shinwon posted pics of themselves in the same studio on hyunggu's birthday and i just can't not write this down. the title (and some parts) are based on 5sos' song vapor in the sounds good feels good album. give it a listen !!

Autumn arrived, and that meant having brown and yellow leaves adorn the pavements around the city while the wind tickled exposed skins. Hyunggu had a habit of stepping on dried leaves, just like many other people around him, because the crunching sounds were like music to his ears.

He stepped on a couple dried leaves he saw near the staircase that led to the Arts and Social Sciences building, and a big smile was carved into his face at the sounds produced. The other students walking into and out of the faculty only gave him incredulous looks, but they didn’t know the joy that such a simple act could bring to a person.

“Good morning, Hyunggu,” greeted one of the staffs who worked the front desk of the faculty.

“Good morning!” he waved back, smiling wide.

Just like the autumn leaves outside, Hyunggu walked down the hallway clad in a brown long coat with a dark grey muffler wrapped around his neck. His head was covered with a beige beanie, and his shoes were the shade of watered down wine. He felt as comfortable as he looked, making his way towards the elevator and pressing the upward arrow button. The sound of his humming echoed through the small area while he waited.

It was a Monday, three weeks into the new semester, and Hyunggu felt as giddy as he did on the very first day he’d stepped onto the campus grounds.

When he arrived on the designated floor, he quickly made his way towards the line of music studios in one long stretch of a hallway. It was quiet, despite being the music faculty’s floor, save for the sound of an electric guitar coming from one of the studios.

That was odd.

Almost everyone he knew in the music faculty had classes on Monday mornings, that’s why Hyunggu could go to the studio and make music alone without disturbances. Art students always had their classes on Tuesdays to Fridays after all, which was perfect in his case.

But on this one fine Monday morning, music was coming from one of the studios, _Hyunggu’s_ studio, and he didn’t know what to do.

Hyunggu stood outside the translucent door, hoping he could make out the appearance of the person who had barged into his studio with no remorse. It was clear on the time table sheet displayed beside each door—Mondays, 10 a.m. to 1 p.m.: Kang Hyunggu.

_Was this person illiterate?_

The art student checked the time on his phone and realized that it was 10:23 a.m., which was fine considering he had put down his name to use the studio and no one would care if he actually used it or not.

With pursed lips, Hyunggu didn’t hesitate to knock on the door twice, leaving the person inside to abruptly stop their guitar playing. Hyunggu admitted to himself that the person was good at it, clearly knowing the song they’re playing really well, but that didn’t give them the right to use a studio which was already booked when there were literally _nine_ other vacant studios.

Shuffling sounds could be heard from inside and Hyunggu crossed his arms over his chest, trying his best to look dissatisfied when he actually started to feel bad for interrupting the person. They could’ve been playing the guitar passionately, and Hyunggu knew how annoying it was to have someone disturb him when he’s in the process of creating art.

A beep broke the silence and the door finally opened, revealing a taller man with ruffled, dark brown hair staring back at him. If he was annoyed, he didn’t show it.

“Yeah?” the man said, not looking amused either.

He had on a black sweater with brown pants and very colourful shoes, which Hyunggu stared at a little longer than he realized. When it dawned on him that he hadn’t spoken a word, he shook his head and met the other’s questioning gaze.

“What, interested in my shoes? What do you want?” the man asked.

“I should be asking _you_ that,” Hyunggu retorted. “What are you doing in my studio?”

“ _Your_ studio?” he pushed the door open wider and placed his hands on either side of the doorframe. “The last time I checked, these studios don’t belong to anyone.”

Having the guy tower over him would’ve intimidated Hyunggu, but his face showed that of another tired student just looking for an escapade, so the latter pushed it aside before pointing at his name written on the time table.

“Can’t you read?” said Hyunggu, “Ten to one, every Monday, _mine_.”

The taller man poked his head out to look at the paper on the wall. Then he shrugged.

“It’s like 10:30 now, not my fault you’re late.”

He didn’t spare Hyunggu a second glance as he turned around and began closing the door, only to have the latter shove his feet forward to stop it.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Hyunggu didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed past the taller guy and nonchalantly made his way into the studio. He placed his backpack on the black sofa by the wall along with his coat and muffler then sat on the chair in the centre of the room.

“I have the studio until one o’clock,” Hyunggu finally said, eyes challenging that of the man standing at the door, gaping at him. “So, do whatever you want, but I’m not leaving.”

“You little—” the other started, but swallowed his words and groaned instead as he closed the door behind him. “Can you at least give me my guitar?”

He sat down on the sofa, putting some space between himself and Hyunggu’s things. It felt weird, seeing Hyunggu in the chair as he moved to get his guitar for him. It made him feel like an intruder, a newcomer, seeing Hyunggu sit so comfortably like he’s in his natural habitat.

“There you go,” Hyunggu said as he passed the guitar to him. “I didn’t even catch your name.”

“Well, you didn’t even ask, _Hyunggu_ ,” the other replied, placing the red electric guitar on his right thigh.

Hyunggu felt the heat rush to his face from embarrassment, but he cleared his throat and turned in his chair, asking for the man’s name.

“It’s Shinwon,” he answered as he strummed a chord on the guitar to tune it properly.

Hyunggu nodded.

He knew that name. It was written on the same time table, right under his every time.

_Mondays, 2 p.m. to 5 p.m.: Ko Shinwon._

Hyunggu didn’t know why Shinwon was there at ten in the morning when his slot’s at two, but he decided against asking and slid the chair back to the desk where the computer was already turned on. He clicked on a folder with his name as the title and looked through the songs he had composed for the past few weeks. There were seven in total, and he didn’t know which one he wanted to work on that day.

Meanwhile behind him, Shinwon saw him go through the folder and began playing the guitar to the tune of a song that sounded familiar. _Too_ familiar, in fact, that Hyunggu whipped around in the next second to face the guitarist with a surprised look on his face.

“That’s… That’s _my_ song,” he said.

Shinwon shrugged, his fingers continuing to pluck the strings of the guitar as he attempted a solo of his own rendition. From the sound, Hyunggu knew that the man had been practicing, and he couldn’t deny how good it felt to hear him play.

His eyes burned into the sight of Shinwon’s fingers, four on the frets and five between the strings, until the idea came to his mind.

Hyunggu wasted no time then, turning on the microphone beside the computer and overlaying the new track with the song that Shinwon was playing. He missed the small smile appearing on Shinwon’s lips as he turned on the keyboard that stood opposite the sofa, his fingers instantly knowing which chords to play.

And that was all it took for their music to flood the empty hallway outside, filling up every crack and crevice of the cement walls and tiled floors. Hyunggu hummed the song softly to keep in track of the music as his fingers danced across the white and black keys, accompanied by Shinwon and the melody of his guitar.

It was perfect.

It was the missing piece in the puzzle that was Hyunggu’s latest song, so he smiled.

He smiled the way he did when he walked through the dried leaves outside because that was how he felt. Hearing the music that the two of them played was like hearing the satisfying, crunching sounds of those brown leaves, and the euphoria that engulfed his heart matched that satisfaction.

At that moment, Shinwon was his autumn leaf.

When the song ended, and silence fell upon the two of them, Hyunggu was afraid to turn around. He was afraid that whatever magic he’d felt when his fingers met the keyboard would disappear if he witnessed Shinwon’s reaction. He wanted to stay put, to stare at the blank wall above the keyboard and bathe in the remnants of the moment they just had.

But that was impossible.

He pushed the chair back with his feet and slowly turned around in his seat, his fingers slightly trembling at the sudden waves of nervousness. He stalled by reaching for the computer and stopping the recording, but he couldn’t stay quiet any longer. When he finally faced Shinwon, the worries dissipated like they were never there.

There was a smile on Shinwon’s lips—a smile that was bigger than the one that Hyunggu didn’t notice earlier.

“I… That was…”

“Amazing?” Shinwon finished the sentence for him.

Hyunggu nodded, hesitant. Then he met Shinwon’s gaze, “How did you know?”

“I might’ve… listened to your songs on the computer every time I come here.”

“Wow,” Hyunggu raised his eyebrows, chuckling to himself as he looked at anywhere else but Shinwon. “First you can’t read, now you can’t respect other people’s privacy.”

“In my defence, your folder’s not password protected or anything so anyone can open them,” replied Shinwon as he set his guitar down beside him.

“So? That doesn’t give you the rights to open it and go through my files.”

“Do you like what you just heard, Hyunggu?”

“I— _what_?”

“The guitar solo. The whole part we just played, do you like it?”

Hyunggu wanted to scream.

He wanted to grab Shinwon by the collar and shake him to his senses. He wanted to yell in his face, telling him how amazing it was and how he wished he could play the guitar well because he couldn’t ever think of the parts that Shinwon just played. Hell, he wanted to demand another round of whatever it was they just did, just so he could record it from the beginning.

Hyunggu only sighed and nodded. “I do,” he said, “I really do.”

Over the next couple of weeks, Hyunggu was used to having Shinwon in the studio with him. He was a big help after all, writing songs with him and coming up with amazing guitar riffs for every track that Hyunggu produced. They even composed new ones, and Hyunggu almost cried when he read the lyrics that Shinwon had written, because they were things he didn’t know the other had thought about.

They spent so much time in the studio that the time table was updated.

Now it was just _Mondays, 10 a.m. to 2 p.m.: Kang Hyunggu, Ko Shinwon._

The extra three hours that Shinwon would spend in the studio were replaced with their routine of having lunch together.

They would walk out of the studio, leaving their musical instruments behind though the music followed them wherever they went.

It followed when Hyunggu pulled Shinwon aside to tell him to step on the dried leaves; it followed when Shinwon smiled so wide as Hyunggu laughed, jumping in joy at the sound of shattered leaves like a child; it followed when the two of them ate their meals at the café while Shinwon complained about his boring criminal law lecturer—their music was everywhere, in every breath that they took and every word that they spoke.

Their meetings went from Mondays at the studio to every day during lunch, and they would always find a reason to meet even when classes were over for the day.

“Why do you want to make music, Hyunggu?” Shinwon asked one day as they sat in the studio, writing lyrics and drinking bitter coffee.

Hyunggu turned to look at him, his eyebrows knitted into a frown as if he was thinking deeply about the answer. Then the frown vanished, replaced with a smile that Shinwon would never get used to seeing, only because it made his heart flutter.

“I just want to be remembered,” Hyunggu said. “I want to be remembered for my music.”

Shinwon smiled back, “Then I’ll definitely remember you, Kang Hyunggu.”

* * *

On one cold evening, six weeks later, Hyunggu texted Shinwon that he wanted to go to the festival the Music Society was hosting with him, and the latter agreed without hesitation. He’d been waiting for Hyunggu to ask him, but that was something he wouldn’t admit.

Shinwon met Hyunggu outside the gates to their dorms and the two walked together towards the compound where the festival was held, their hands in the pockets of their coats. The coat and muffler Hyunggu had on were the same ones that he wore on the day of their first encounter, making Shinwon blush to himself.

“You look great,” he blurted out as they walked. He mentally slapped himself for it, but the smile that appeared on Hyunggu’s face made him relax.

“Thank you,” he said, “you don’t look too bad yourself.”

That was an understatement. From the moment Hyunggu saw Shinwon’s slicked back hair, he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs. It should be a crime to look that good, but Hyunggu kept his mouth shut.

At the festival, colourful lights were hung on tree branches and across numerous tents while students walked around in every direction. Some were lining up at the food trucks, some were just sitting by the tents, busking with their friends, and some were checking out the stalls that bore different things from musical instruments to albums by western artists to posters.

It was a fundraiser, which made it even better because Hyunggu loved splurging on vinyl records whenever he had the chance. When his eyes fell on the tent that sold them, he pulled Shinwon by the hand and ran towards the stall.

Shinwon’s eyes widened at their intertwined fingers, but he didn’t have time to process it before he was dragged forward. He watched as Hyunggu’s eyes lit up at the sight of the vinyl records and nodded at every information about the music pieces that he told him with full enthusiasm.

“You really know your albums,” Shinwon said, tracing the records in front of him with his forefinger.

“You’re underestimating me,” Hyunggu pouted, his arms now filled with ten different vinyl records from three different artists.

Shinwon smiled fondly, “Never.”

It was Shinwon’s turn to get excited when he found a food truck that sold his favourite fried chicken, and he was almost too exhilarated when he saw a guitar strap with hamburger prints on it, making Hyunggu laugh loudly. Shinwon battled with himself for approximately five minutes, contemplating whether or not he should buy the strap when he already had one.

“Have you made your decision?” Hyunggu asked playfully, still chuckling at how serious Shinwon seemed about wanting the guitar strap.

“Hmm,” Shinwon looked at him, “you know what, let’s just get the fried chicken.”

Hyunggu smiled as he nodded. “Okay, you go ahead and get in line, I need to use the bathroom.”

He watched as Shinwon made his way towards the food truck and quickly approached the stall, buying the strap for him and slipping it into his bag so the other wouldn’t see. Then he went to find Shinwon, who had just paid for the box of fried chicken and was walking towards him with a grin on his face.

“Let’s go eat,” he said.

They found a quiet spot near a tree where small tables with wooden stools were situated and sat down to eat. Their silence was comfortable, with live music from the festival floating around their little bubble.

Hyunggu watched Shinwon eat silently, not realizing how long he’d been staring until Shinwon called him out. His cheeks instantly flushed into a deep shade of pink before he shook his head, a small smile appearing on his face.

“I have something for you,” he said, taking off the plastic gloves and rummaging through his bag to find the object. Hyunggu took the guitar strap out and showed it to Shinwon with an excited “Tada!” which made the latter laugh and cover his face with his hands.

“Kang Hyunggu,” Shinwon shook his head as he, too, took off his gloves. He received the strap with furrowed eyebrows before he locked his gaze with Hyunggu’s again. “Thank you, I love it.”

When they were done with their food, Shinwon helped clear the table and they continued walking through the tents. It was almost nine o’clock, and the festival would close in an hour.

“What are they doing?” Hyunggu suddenly asked, pointing at a group of students crouching beside a tent on their left. “C’mon, let’s go!” he pulled Shinwon’s hand again.

“They’re marking their handprints in the cement,” Shinwon observed from the front of the tent. “It’s free too.”

“Let’s do it,” Hyunggu said, smiling up at him as he swung their intertwined hands excitedly. “I want to print our hands in the pavement.”

It was cold, the cement, but Shinwon couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling inside him as he and Hyunggu pressed their hands into the grey substance together.

 _This was it_ , Shinwon thought. _This was his autumn leaf._

They would put their handprints in their studio and make their mark there. He would look at the print of Hyunggu’s slender fingers beside his smaller ones and remember this moment, the look in Hyunggu’s eyes as he stared into them, glowing from the blinking lights behind them.

Shinwon wanted to savour every second of this moment; he wanted to feel Hyunggu’s very existence wrap around him like the weather, and he wouldn’t ask for it any other way.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Hyunggu asked when they walked out of the festival, past the trees and through a small garden.

The two had stopped walking, and Shinwon couldn’t take his eyes off of Hyunggu even if he tried. He took one step towards the latter and said, “It’s you.”

“What?” Hyunggu asked softly, tilting his head up to stare into Shinwon’s eyes. His cold fingers warmed when Shinwon took his hands and held them to his chest.

“It’s always been you, isn’t it?” Shinwon smiled, “I thought I was into your music. I listened to it every time I stayed in that studio; waited for the day I could finally show you the music _I_ was working on based on yours.”

“You barged into my studio that day on purpose, didn’t you?” Hyunggu chuckled.

Shinwon nodded, squeezing his hands, “You have no idea how nervous I was when you knocked the door that morning.”

“Me too, I felt bad for stopping you from playing your guitar.”

“Don’t be,” Shinwon said, taking another step forward until their noses almost touched. “I thought I fell for your music, Kang Hyunggu, but now I realize that I’ve also fallen for _you_.”

“Finally,” Hyunggu whispered before wrapping his arms around Shinwon’s neck and kissing him on the lips. He couldn’t help but smile when Shinwon kissed him back, the latter’s fingers toying with the ends of his hair tickling his nape.

When he pulled back, Shinwon placed another kiss on his nose and let their foreheads touch, his ragged breathing slowly falling back into a steady rhythm as they stood in the middle of the garden with nothing to witness them but the stars above. Hyunggu placed his hands on Shinwon’s cheeks, and he leaned into the touch.

“It took you a month to realize that but I’m so glad you finally did,” Hyunggu said with his eyes closed. “I knew I’ve fallen for you from the moment you played that guitar solo.”

“I really made a great first impression, huh?” Shinwon teased.

Hyunggu opened his eyes and slapped Shinwon’s shoulder lightly, “You sure did.”

“Well,” Shinwon leaned in for another kiss, “I want to be the one you remember.”

“I don’t plan on forgetting you anytime soon,” Hyunggu replied, and he closed the gap between them, smiling into the kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> this was so cliche damn... you can yell at me on twt (mcwooseok) or in the comments tho, i can take it :))


End file.
